


Choose Your Adventure

by LadyWynne



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: ABOSAA, Book 6: A Breath of Snow and Ashes, F/M, implied rape, not meant for kids despite the title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:14:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24027964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWynne/pseuds/LadyWynne
Summary: Where things either go A Lot Worse or A Lot Better on the night of Claire’s rescue from Hodgepile’s gang in ABOSAA. Read one or read both.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp & Jamie Fraser, Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	1. A Lot Worse

**Author's Note:**

> This is based in the book universe although it is inspired by the upcoming airing of Outlander episode 512. Imagining the many ways the show might portray this event resulted in these little nuggets.
> 
> I understand it won't be for everyone. 
> 
> Unbeta'd, like all my work. Please forgive me.

**A Lot Worse**

Hodgepile was a dead man. He knew it the moment he saw the demon emerge from the trees. Face black, hair of flames, and eyes lit with the unnatural gleam of a vengeful spirit. He knew what the beast wanted, knew why it was here. For her. Damn the woman. He wished he never laid eyes on the witch. Well, if he was going to hell, she was fucking going with him.

He stumbled in the dark but soon found her. The boys had not been kind. He felt himself smirk at that. No matter. Neither was he. A madness seemed to course through him, and his vision narrowed. He had only one goal. Not his own survival, that was impossible now, but one last task.

He lunged forward, punching her viciously to subdue her. Then he went to one knee, gripping her neck above the noose with his left hand and slamming her head back against the tree to which she was bound. Her eyes were clouded with pain, but he saw them widen slightly, even black and swollen as they were, and shift to something behind him. He didn’t turn, knew what it was she saw. _Now. It has to be now, dammit!_ He tightened his hold on her neck and stuck the bitch right beneath the ribs. He felt the knife sink, twisted it, and just had time to hear a satisfying grunt of pain from his victim before he felt a burning across his throat, a warm gush---

*****

Jamie flung the dirk aside and shoved the dead weight over, away from her, from Claire. She fell to the side and he caught her, already on his knees, cradling her. He swiped the hair from her face. _Ah Dhia!_ It was the white of a poisonous toadstool, covered in bruises and scratches; but in the grayness before dawn her golden eyes sought his and he gasped out a sob at sight of them.

“Jamie?”

He tried to smile at her, felt it tremble. “ _Tha, mo graidh. T_ _ha mi an seo_ _._ ”

He felt blindly for one of her hands, wanting to comfort her, and found them still bound. Reaching though, he felt the wetness, an unmistakable warm reeking stickiness. He did not look, didn’t want to look, but somehow saw the dark pool anyway.

Her eyes had slipped closed. It was barely light enough to see the tracks leaking from their corners. “Jamie, where were you? I needed you.”

She began to go limp against him, seeming to relax a single muscle at a time. He held her reflexively closer. No good, the slackening continued, slowing even as her heart did.

“ _Mo nighean donn_! No, Sassenach stay! Ye are my light, _mo Sorcha_.” She seemed to try to answer him, her breath catching briefly, agitated, fighting to stay with him. Oh God, this would not do.

He squeezed his eyes tight shut, forcing himself into calmness, gentleness, though the awful puddle continued to grow under his knees. _Dhia,_ _cuidich mi_ _._ _Thoir dhomh neart air a son_ _a-nis._

Once his own heart had slowed he took deep breath and lowered his head, laying his cheek next to hers so that he could whisper soothingly in her ear. “’Tis all right, _a graidh_. Dinna fash. I will be wi’ ye always.” 

He felt her calm at his voice. 

He continued to cradle her close, felt the softness of her hair and the weight of her body. The time between her breaths lengthened, became interminable. He felt a tear of his own, dripping down to mix with hers. 

“The sun is rising, Claire, _mo Sorcha_. Follow it. Do as I say. Follow it home.” 

She did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tha mi an seo. – I am here  
> mo graidh – my love  
> Dhia, cuidich mi. - God, help me.  
> Thoir dhomh neart air a son a-nis. – Give me strength for her now.


	2. A Lot Better

**A Lot Better**

The sun had just set, and Claire was cold. She cast her mind longingly back toward the fire, but then remembered Boble and thought better of it. _Please, please, Lord, let them leave me be._ She had been lucky so far. No one had molested her. Yet. At least she was alone for now.

Claire leaned gratefully against the tree, her noose chafing a bit as she swallowed. She was thirsty too, and the gag didn’t help. She drew her knees up and rested her head on them, willing herself to stay calm. She yearned for Jamie. _Where **was** he? _She imagined his plaid wrapped around her and the solidness of him by her side. _Hurry Jamie._

It may have been an hour or a minute when a whisper came from the darkness, “Claire.” She opened her eyes and he was there! Kneeling in front of her, his face blackened but his eyes bright.

“Claire, _mo chridhe_ , are ye all right?” His hands trembled as he worked to free her, and as soon as she was he pressed her hard to him.

She closed her eyes for an instant and clutched his shirt, feeling herself begin to shake with relief. “I’m fine. Jamie let’s get out of here. Please.”

He nodded and released her. “Aye, Sassenach. Quiet now. Follow me.” He took her by the hand, and they crept into the woods. They moved quickly and carefully, crouching slightly. Jamie glanced back often but no one seemed to be following.

They must have walked for close to a mile. Claire was a bundle of tight-strung nerves, and when a painted face materialized from the darkness right beside her, she couldn’t help a small shriek. Jamie was in front of her with his dirk in an instant, but she saw him relax almost immediately.

“Ian, ye scared us man.”

Ian did not answer but stepped around Jamie to her.

“Auntie!” he embraced her then held her at arm’s length. “Are ye all right then?”

“Yes. Only glad to be away from there.” He nodded, taking me at my word and turned to Jamie.

“How will it be then, Uncle? Since ye were able to get her away?”

“Yer aunt is safe, Ian, that’s the important thing. We’ll take her to our camp. But I think then we must go back. I have to have answers, and this wickedness canna go unpunished.”

I was weak with hunger and fatigue, and at that moment by body betrayed me. I swayed and nearly fell against Jamie. He clasped me about the waist, supporting me, then took a long look into my face.

“Sassenach! Ye’re white as milk. Lead on Ian. We’ll make plans once Claire is safe.” And with that he bent and took me in his arms, cradling me. I didn’t protest, though I felt somewhat a fool. Instead I put my arms around his neck and my head on his shoulder.

In camp I was greeted by the men of the Ridge, who all made much of me, bringing blankets and water, and pressing something hot into my hands. In moments I was cocooned with my back against a log, and securely settled between Jamie and Roger, who squeezed my arm in sympathy before turning his attention to the proceedings.

I tried to listen as the men planned their attack, “It must be tonight…”, “Keep some alive…”, “Browns…”, but I could not attend. The feeling of finally being _safe_ , warm, and the trials of the last days overcame me. The voices became nothing more than a lulling burr.

I woke briefly when Jamie kissed my cheek. “Sleep on, lass,” he whispered. “I’ve left Roger Mac and Fergus to guard ye. No one will harm ye.”

I tried to protest, to rise. I ought to be doing something! But my limbs would not respond. Jamie saw my effort and smiled at me. “Dinna fash, _mo nighean donn_. There’s naught ye can do. Sleep, and I will see you soon.” He kissed my lips tenderly and smoothed back an errant curl. I relaxed and was asleep again before he was fully standing.

*****

In the morning I learned what happened. The Ridge took no injuries, but eight of Hodgepile’s gang were killed, including the man himself and the odious Boble. Lionel Brown lived. He would be transported by litter. The rest Jamie let go with the promise of certain death should they ever return. None of them doubted his word, and departed weaponless, on foot, and grateful for it.

I rode on one of our new mounts, staying close to Jamie and stopping only to wash. Toward evening we were home. We emerged from the trees to the view of the Big House, windows lit and smoke coming from the chimney. It was perhaps the most wonderful thing I had ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Did you prefer one over the other? Let me know below!


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